With some exceptions, a longform improv set generally ranges between 15-90 minutes. Quality considerations aside, a team has two major challenges going in: 1) create enough content to fill the allotted time, and 2) make the show on the whole feel like a cohesive and consumable entity. Satisfactorily accomplishing both of these goals can be tricky though because they are frequently at odds, especially toward longer end of that range - accomplishing Challenge #1 relies on adding new information; accomplishing Challenge #2 relies on keeping information limited. The basic problem is that complexity increases with time, so how do we allow for this without letting it get out of control?
We’ve previously explored how various scenic Limits can keep scenes simple as they lengthen, and all of those Limits can be extended throughout the show as long as they remain relevant. In particular, maintaining established Character Patterns and Fixed Dynamics as Characters return is definitely useful for show stability. But structures like Spokane that don’t intentionally recycle material in the way that a Harold does tend to lean more heavily on novelty and expansion, which means they’re more likely to introduce new Characters more often, therefore making it more difficult to apply Character-based Limits. For this reason we need to find ways to limit complexity that are disconnected from Character.
Luckily we have a few tools to do this - Show Rules, Memes, and Callbacks.
Show Rules
There are two important components to what I call a Show Rule and to be one it must meet both requirements:
A specific set of circumstances always prompts a specific reaction
That specific reaction does not change
Imagine a scene where a Character enters the room by kicking down the door. This is a specific set of circumstances (Character needs to get through door) followed by a specific reaction (they kick it down). At this point this move has only happened once and there are a few options: it never happens again, it becomes a Character Pattern, or it becomes a Show Rule. It’s the second move that establishes this delineation. If that specific Character comes across a door later in the show and kicks it down, it’s a Character Pattern; this specific Character’s specific reaction to a specific set of circumstances. But if a completely different Character in a later scene comes across a door and kicks it down, now it’s a Show Rule: At any point if anyone needs to go through a door, they have to kick it down.
The equation is essentially “If there is X then everyone must Y”; “If there is a door to get through then everyone must kick it down.” These variables also never change - it’s always a door that gets kicked, never a window or a wall; the door always gets kicked down, not rammed or dismantled. It’s a fairly straightforward static pattern, but I find them to be much less common than Character Patterns despite starting from the same point. I believe this is because we naturally link actions with actor and forget that actions exist of themselves. All it takes is anyone recognizing this, isolating the action, and applying it to a different actor. Once established, a Show Rule is universally applied to the entire rest of the show.
Here’s a few more examples to solidify the concept:
- Every time time someone says the word “Friday”, their scene partner says “TGIF”.
- If anyone orders food, they order fish tacos.
- If someone washes their hands, the water is too hot.
The final important aspect of Show Rules is that they’re most effective when they don’t become too much of the focus in the scene that prompted the circumstances. Because they create a satisfying moment of surprising recollection for the audience, they frequently get laughs, which can often lead performers to lean too hard on them or repeat them too frequently. But Show Rules truly shine when the circumstances come up organically. They work best when they’re almost an afterthought for the performers as they do their scene. It’s only when, as they turn to exit the room and see the door, that they remember “oh yeah, I’m supposed to kick this down.”
Memes
“Meme” is kind of a loaded term because of the internet but I like it as a concept because it’s exactly what I mean. The originator of the term is Richard Dawkins who in his 1976 book The Selfish Gene felt the need to create “a noun that conveys the idea of a unit of cultural transmission”, some examples being tunes, catch-phrases, and fashion. Terence McKenna later defined a meme as “the smallest unit of an idea that still has coherency”. Applying these definitions to improv, the concept is that each individual show establishes its own unique culture in which unique ideas are developed, shared, and explored. In other words, a Meme is recurring motif in a show that resonates only because of the associations it generates within that particular show.
I realize this is vague so I’ll do my best to explain. If a performer mentions a local landmark during a show, that conjures certain associations for the audience based on what they know of that landmark. A scene for New York audience where a character mentions wanting to experience the “real” New York and another suggests going to Times Square might get a laugh because the audience knows that Times Square is constantly packed with tourists and most locals avoid it when they can. A Meme leverages the audience’s shared associations in the same way, except these associations are exclusive to this particular audience watching this particular show.
Perhaps the most important aspect of Memes and what differentiates them from Show Rules is that Memes evolve as they reappear. Dawkins theorized that Memes operated in a culture much like genes operated in biology; with each replication there is a chance of mutation. Improv Memes operate similarly in that they maintain the smallest unit of the coherent idea with each replication, but each iteration tends to be a little different.
Forgive me for using my own team as an example but here are 3 clips from a recent Neighbors show that demonstrate the use of a Meme:
In this Spokane, Sarah Meléndez and Ben Gibb are doing a two-person source scene playing a couple in their home when at one point Sarah’s character does a wildly inaccurate impression of Ben’s character Mark. Later, Kate Hopkins and I, playing Mark’s parents, imitate Mark in a similar way. Finally, Sara Teague later tags in as Sarah’s friend and does her own version of a Mark impression.
The main elements of the impression (the smallest unit of the idea that still has coherency) is that Mark does weird stuff with his arms, smokes, and wears a hat. But each time the impression is repeated, it morphs. Sarah’s original impression in in the style of an old man. The version Kate and I do is more wiggly and cartoonish, “like an octopus”. Finally, Sara’s interpretation is more laid back and has cool dude vibes. Each time it reappears, the Mark Impression Meme maintains its consistent elements, but evolves stylistically.
This is particular example is kind of a Show Rule-Meme hybrid because it’s prompted by a specific set of circumstances (someone does an impression of Mark) but changes each time. Like every pattern, the second move defines the parameters. The second move for this pattern defined that the impression was specific to Mark, but an alternate version of this show could very well have broadened the scope of the Meme by doing an impression of a completely different character. If that were the case, it would mean any impression of anyone would include doing weird stuff with your arms, smoking, and wearing a hat. On the other hand, the second move could have just as easily put this pattern firmly in Show Rule category if it had maintained the old man style of the original impression; if the reaction to the specific set of circumstances hadn’t changed at all.
Double forgive me for not using the most intellectual content for the next example but it shows a different use of a Meme that’s unprompted by a specific scenario:
In this clip I’m playing a character named Mikey who has been cursed with a talking dick, played by Matt McMahan. At first Mikey is embarrassed, until Mina Bond tags in and asks Mikey’s dick to prom, leading to a sequence of events that end with Mikey’s dick becoming prom king. Later in the show, Mina is playing “a new up-and-coming rapper” Lil Squeeze who is trying to recruit Matt Pina and Kate Hopkins (whose characters had previously been established as bullies) to help her get pumped up for shows. Instead, they maintain their character pattern by bullying her, which includes making fun of Lil Squeeze for not having a talking dick, at which point Matt McMahan enters as a sad silent dick.
Talking Dick as an idea doesn’t become a Meme until it reappears, and despite reappearing in a completely unrelated context with completely new characters in a completely different way, it works because it leverages the audience’s familiarity with the idea: people in this show can have anthropomorphic dicks and if they can talk it’s really cool. The second iteration of the Meme relies on these previously-established associations in order to make sense, and it’s by leaning on these associations while exploring the idea from a different angle that allow for it to take further shape.
Memes are special types of patterns because they don’t belong to a particular individual, they belong to the show as a whole. In both of the above examples, the reappearance of the Meme only gets the reaction it does because the audience has witnessed the origins and entire evolution of the idea. Memes reward the audience for paying attention and make them feel special for being part of an inside joke that’s unique to them. Because they evolve, they’re also a nice balance of familiarity and novelty.
Callbacks
The most straightforward of these three concepts, Callbacks are a way to limit complexity by reusing existing information instead of adding something new. One of my general theories for any show is that the first half is about expansion and exploration while the back half is about merging and closure. Callbacks are a relatively easy way to serve the back half goal, so that’s where they’re most effective. In a Harold, for example, the most effective 3rd beats are almost exclusively Callbacks.
A basic Callback is as simple as repeating a specific from earlier in the show when the opportunity arises. For example, if a scene in the first half of the show was about a family on vacation in Portland, a character in the back half of the show who is naming a place they want to visit before they die could say Portland. It doesn’t have to be any more complicated than that.
Because the repetition of the specific information will often get a laugh of recognition, it’s easy to focus on that move as the most important element, but the key part of the Callback is actually the setup, without which there would be nothing to recall. One of the reasons specifics are so important in scenework is not just because they paint a clearer picture, but because the more specific something is the easier it is to remember and the more obvious it is when it comes back. For example the phrase “grab me a seltzer” might get recognized upon recall but could just as easily fly under the radar. On the other hand, “grab me a Pamplemousse La Croix” is much more likely to be recognized because its specificity helps it stand out (also because “pamplemousse” is an especially weird word).
Once specific information has entered the show, it’s on the performer to recognize and pocket it for later. This can be difficult in longer shows with a lot going on, but it’s very much an intentional process. I find it most effective to lean on my own taste, meaning I’ll take note of things that I personally enjoy and what naturally stands out to me vs trying to remember every single little detail. I recognize that I’ll miss some things with this method, but this is fine because I trust that my teammates can fill in the gaps. My job in the first half of the show is creating and pocketing as many standout specifics as I can, and my job the second half is about creating and looking for recall opportunities. This is a deliberate mode shift that changes how I approach specificity in each half of the show; in the first half I’m intentionally adding new information, while in the back half I’m first flipping through my pocketed specifics to see if anything fits the present circumstances before adding anything new.
This intentionality is just as much a part of why Callbacks get positive reactions - the move itself is technically impressive. The audience enjoys both the surprise recall of a familiar element and the fact that the performer doing the recall remembered it at all. This is especially true if they had forgotten themselves; part of the reaction is “wow, I can’t believe they remembered that.”
I feel like I end a ton of posts with this disclaimer but here it is anyway - Show Rules, Memes, and Callbacks are simply labels I’ve assigned to different types of non-character-based patterns. I’ve done my best to define the boundaries of these definitions in theory which makes it helpful to isolate and practice them, but onstage I’ve found that labels like these mostly get in the way. Practically, these types of patterns exist on a spectrum and plenty of very effective patterns will straddle categorical lines or be difficult to define. As always, when it’s show time toss theory out the window in favor of your instincts and inspiration.